


Racist Bonding Session

by UltraSharkPiss



Category: David Bowie (Musician), Morrissey (Musician), The Smiths
Genre: Crack, In Character, Love, M/M, good fic, hot love, passionate romance, read me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 00:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20054686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltraSharkPiss/pseuds/UltraSharkPiss
Summary: On tour Bowie and Morrissey find they have more in common than they once believed ;))))))))))))))(WARNING: VERY HOT CONTENT, READ AT OWN RISK)





	Racist Bonding Session

David Bowie's POV

The violent knocking I made on Morrissey's door was completely drowned out by the loud sobbing coming from inside.

"Hey! Is everything alright?", I screamed at the top my lungs. Still, the weeping only grew louder, echoing down the hallway, causing ringing in my ears. I wasn't physically capable of making myself heard. I sighed and tried running a hand through my hair but it was rock solid from all the products keeping my spikes in place. I had been touring with Morrissey for a few weeks already and these kinds of breakdowns were not exactly uncommon, but they had never been this bad. We have been getting complaints from buildings all over the block and I'm all out of pocket money from bribing the hotel to let us stay. Something must be seriously wrong. 

"It's David, let me in!", I bellowed. It seemed that Morrissey had calmed himself enough to be able to hear my shouts, because the wailing stopped and I could hear faint footsteps approaching the door. 

"What do you enquire?" His voice sounded throaty, weak and completely unrecognizable.

"I just wanted to check on you. You sound pretty upset, I care about you y'know." After a small pause and the noise of a dussen locks being opened he finally let me inside.  
I raised my eyebrows at Morrissey, he quietly pointed me to a dark shape on the bed, it was hard to tell what it was in the dark so I sat myself down next to it to get a better look. It was a copy of The New York Times displaying the headline: "MORRISSEY PROVEN TO BE MASSIVE RACIST AND BAD PERSON". I audibly gasped and turned to him in disbelief and sympathy. 

"I'm so sorry man! It's sick how the media just attacks people like this. You've done nothing wrong, this is completely unfair," I said, feeling myself tear up. "They shame and oppress people just for expressing who they are, which is non-american and violates free speech! This is basically communism! Did you know that Stalin killed more people than Hitler did?" 

Morrissey gave me a wide eyed look.  
"I feel well to an acceptable degree," he said, face still red and swollen. He looked down, seemingly embarrassed for what he was about to say. "I really do relish you David Bowie, you were my big inspiration, you were an out and open Nazi when nobody else was and it meant the world to me as a racist adolescent to finally see a public figure who was like me. But, I believed you took it all back, the media claimed you were no longer racist and thought of it as a bad phase." Morrissey turned away from me and hid his face in his hands. He sounded broken. 

"No! You must believe me," I said, desperate. "I really am racist! I made those statements to appease the media and save my image, I'm not proud of it, society forced me to hide my true self. It's hard for me y'know. I really do love Iman very much but interracial marriage is just wrong! I can't stand it!"  
Morrissey turned toward towards me again, the love and understanding in his eyes seemed deeper than anything I had previously experienced, I felt truly understood.

"I agree, interracial marriage is immoral," he said softly, "So you really meant it all then?" The realization seemed to hit him that he wasn't alone anymore, that I was what he had always hoped I would be, the purity in his smile then, it made everything feel right.

"I am truly racist, and that will never change," I said, nodding. Morrissey started moving closer to me.

"I'm glad we're finally getting to know each other," he whispered seductively. The sexual tension was oozing out of our pores. I felt my face stretch out in what must have been a grotesque smile. This was truly far out. I'm not even bisexual, (tho I fucking wish I was) the passion and racism just took me over.

I lunged into a passionate kiss, as Morrissey started kissing back I pushed him down onto the bed. Pulling back to look at him I noticed my face was dripping wet from his old tears.  
I unzipped my trousers hastily as he started clumsily removing his jeans. I got out my 1 foot throbbing tower, looking at him, wanting to catch his reaction, he gave me two thumbs up. I positioned myself between his legs, and without breaking eye contact I wet my hands with his tears still running down my face and started lubing him up. 

"I'm gonna show you a real good time" I said breathily, he seemed to believe me, smiling in response.

As I personally didn't believe in the concept of foreplay I just held him in place, stuck my 1 footer in and went to town. I was too focused on my task to notice his disapproving look, the newfound love and understanding slowly disappearing from his face.

I climaxed after just over a minute feeling very proud of the sex I had just performed.  
This was absolutely perfect, I laid back on the bed closing my eyes feeling completely at peace with myself.

"Well that was really disappointing," Morrissey said, ruining my great mood.

"Oh fuck off," I said as I got up and zipping up my trousers. Then I turned around, got out of the hotel room and never saw him again.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos down below 👇😎👇


End file.
